The Volunteer
by mindimpalace
Summary: The 74th Annual Hunger Games from an unexpected point of view.


As I make my way back to the first trap I had set this morning, I hear a girl's scream coming from the very direction I am headed. Further in the distance I hear another voice answer.

"Rue!" I think I hear it call.

I pick up my pace, running to the trap. Rue is the name of the little girl from District 11, and I know I've caught her. Though I can't even begin to guess at who was crazy enough to form an alliance with her.

I have to hurry.

I'm within sight of the clearing now and I see the girl on the ground, struggling to free herself of the net that has trapped her.

The voice calling her has also gotten much closer. Too close.

I burst into the clearing and throw my spear at the girl the instant I see another figure emerge out of the corner of my eye.

Katniss, the menacing yet enchanting girl from District 12. Does she really care about this pathetic girl from the agricultural district?

The spear I threw embeds itself into the stomach of the girl called Rue. I instantly realise I have made a fatal mistake.

The fury I see in Katniss's eyes freezes me in place. I had no idea the girl had meant so much to her. Time slows down as I watch her draw an arrow from her sheath and place it in her bow. I know this girl's aim is flawless.

In that moment I know that I am dead. I have lost the Hunger Games, something I had only a minute ago thought impossible.

As my killer releases her arrow, I see the events of the past several weeks replay themselves across my vision.

It's the day of the Reaping. I am delighted that after years of failed attempts, I am finally the first to volunteer for my district's male position in the Games. I smile broadly as I bound up the steps to the stage, encouraged by the congratulatory cheers of my friends and family. They all know that my certain victory will bring the district even more wealth than we had accumulated in the past several decades.

When I say my goodbyes later in the Justice Building, there is much celebration. My parents laugh as they jokingly remind me to be home for my grandmother's birthday next month. I give them a parting hug and thank them for all they've done to give me this opportunity, especially helping with my training. As my parents exit the room, I remind them to act surprised when the Capitol sends its people to interview them when I reach the final eight. I mean to go for the angle of being unsure but hopeful that I will win. That would keep me from making myself too big of a target.

That is the last time I ever see my parents.

I'm on the train pulling into the Capitol, excitedly waving out the window to the people of our nation's great city.

I can't wait for tonight's opening ceremonies. The President will even make an appearance.

When I leave the train I happily answer all of the questions I am asked. It is hard for me not to act convinced I will come out as Victor, but my strategy tells me not to, so I don't. But I'm sure to give them more than enough photographs of my winningest smile.

"You seem pretty confident. You're saying you think you could win?" It is several days later and I am being interviewed by the great Caesar Flickerman himself. I look out at the crowd and answer his question,

"That would certainly be nice," I say with a shrug.

The Capitol loves me. I can see it in their eyes and I am more confident than ever that I will win these Games.

Caesar asks me why I volunteered to be a tribute in the games and I scoff at the question,

"Would anyone in their right mind pass up the opportunity to be here with you lovely people?" I gesture to the audience and they applaud.

All in all, I consider this a pretty successful interview. I return to my chair next to the other tributes and pretend to be interested in the other interviews. Most of them are pretty boring. Some cause the crowd to laugh. I tell myself to keep an eye on them- the girls from 5, 8, and 12. They all rub me the wrong way anyway, and they seem ungrateful for the chance to even be here.

Finally, we reach the final interview. As was the custom, the male tribute from District 12 goes last. This year it is a fairly well-built blond kid named Peeta.

I am soon jealous of the ease with which he exchanges phrases with Caesar, and it isn't long before I know he has stolen the crowd.

By the last question the boy has the audience eating out of the palm of his hand. His confession of love for his district partner is obviously only a lie to get him sponsors, and it bothers me that these good Capitol people don't know they're being hoodwinked.

The crowd continues wailing as we tributes walk offstage, and I pay careful attention to the tributes from 12.

Their impossibly high training scores had admittedly rattled me a bit, but I knew they would still be no match for my years of training experience. But now...

I give the boy credit. His strategy is flawless and I wish I would have thought of it myself. And this makes me completely sure that this lover boy from 12 just stole all of my attention, and more importantly, my sponsors.

I promise myself that I will be the one to kill both halves of this sickening pair of supposed lovers.

I step off of my platform into the arena as the cannon sounds for us to begin. I am one of the first ones to run the entire way to the Cornucopia and manage to get my hands on a spear. I am pleased that I kill four others before the initial bloodbath is even over. This will be easier than I thought.

I was wrong.

Here I stand, several days later, so close to the end, seconds away from death.

Never in a million years had I seen this coming.

Time speeds back up as the arrow enters my body, right on target.

As I fall to the ground, my ears here one last thing before I slip into eternal darkness.

A cannon.

Mine, I realise.


End file.
